


Apoplexy

by FrozenHearts



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Bards, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, F/M, Gen, I am not nice to Jaskier in this fic but then again I never am, I love Jaskier though he's my favorite, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Insults, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Kidnapping, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Male Friendship, Mentioned Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Mentioned Dudu, Mentioned Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Post-Canon, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Rivalry, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22426717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenHearts/pseuds/FrozenHearts
Summary: Geralt finds out about Valdo Marx.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion/Valdo Marx, Priscilla (The Witcher) & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 6
Kudos: 141





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TBH I am aware of Valdo Marx from the games but he never shows up in the games.
> 
> This is a mix of games and TV show

When Jaskier first wished for this Valdo Marx to die of apoplexy, he believed he was joking. A talentless hack, as Jaskier had called him, and Geralt didn't really have a frame of reference, so Geralt assumed Jaskier's description was true. 

Now, as he wandered from town to town, listening to lower rate bards wail and whine their way through Jaskier's songs, Geralt had a feeling Jaskier was right. He was sat in the Buxom Bridle, a rather run down place filled to the brim with down on their luck peasants, when the young lady with long blonde hair and a jaunty feather in her hat (Priscilla, Geralt remembered she and Jaskier had got along quite well), hopped offstage to sparse but appreciative applause, Geralt had to admit that her voice was lovely enough to substitute Jaskier's. She waved to him, a quick fleeting motion and Geralt knew what it meant- she had information of Jaskier's whereabouts.

Geralt nodded back at her and leaned back in his rickety old chair. Upon Yennefer's insistence, Geralt was here; he knew he had to fix what happened on the mountain, and it took both Yennnefer and Corolla wheedling him until he got it through his thick skull.

Yennefer's words, not his, but he complied, accepting a kiss from Yennefer and a hug from Corolla before they sent him off with a xenevox to keep in touch. 

"Trouble in Paradise?" Priscilla slid into the seat across from him, jolting him from his thoughts as she tossed her ridiculous hat onto the table.

"Yennefer and I are fine," Geralt grumbled. Priscilla laughed, swiping his tankard and taking a large swig. White foam sat on her upper lip and she swiped at it carelessly, smudging the pink of her lipstick as well.

"I knew that," Priscilla rolled her eyes, "I meant you and Dandelion-" she paused, making a face, "- Jaskier, sorry."

Geralt smirked, "He still going by that ridiculous stage name?"

"It kind of stuck after that Valdo Marx hack started calling him that- Jaskier ever tell you about him?"

And there it was. Valdo Marx, once again. Geralt couldn't say how well-versed he was in the theatre outside of Priscilla and Jaskier, but even without them present, Valdo Marx seemed to come up every time. 

It was annoying.

"Jaskier wished him to die a painful death a while ago," Geralt recalled.

Priscilla perked up, a glint in her green eyes as she cooked, "Did he now? Do tell! He always keeps his adventures to himself!"

Geralt shrugged, "Didn't explain much- just that he was a talentless hack and that he wanted him to die terribly if apoplexy, if anything."

Geralt didn't miss how her gaze fell, how she began to scratch the old oak table, digging into the grooves with her fingernail. Looking over her shoulder, Geralt saw a young bard with his lute climb up on a table and begin playing.

It was one of Jaskier's songs, Geralt realized after a minute, although the melody was pitched slightly higher, the Bard's voice cracking with puberty on some of Jaskier's impossibly high notes. Both of them winced as one of his strings snapped and he had to step down from his perch to fix it.

"Have you seen Jaskier recently?" Geralt asked, "I thought he travelled with you a few times."

Priscilla nodded, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear, "Yes- although he hasn't really been performing much lately-"

Geralt reeled- Jaskier not performing? That didn't- Jaskier was always talking, always singing and smiling and what happened? Granted, they hadn't left on good terms, but even a fight wouldn't deter Jaskier from singing his heart out. 

"- aldo Marx decided to court him!" Priscilla blew a raspberry, "I mean, you said it yourself, he wished the guy would die of a stroke!"

Geralt blinked, curling a fist against his thigh. Brow furrowed, he leaned forward, "Jaskier is... allowing the man he hates..."

"To woo him, yes," Priscilla nodded, "Although it didn't end well the first time- it's why he hates him-"

"Hold on, Jaskier and this Valdo Marx were in a relationship before?"

Priscilla moved to grab his mug of ale again and Geralt let her. The young man singing had moved on to another song, Jaskier's first ballad about the White Wolf, in fact. The lyrics settled deep in Geralt's chest, twisting and tugging his heart- it was obvious the boy had practiced this piece more than the others, his tone more steady and words less slurred. 

"Yeah- I kept telling Dudu to get him out of the troupe for a bit," Priscilla's voice went soft, eyes forlorn as she gulped, "Jaskier denied it all he wanted, but everyone saw the bruises no matter how much makeup he put on every morning."

Geralt cursed under his breath, slamming his mug down as Priscilla continued to ramble. He listened vaguely, only just so, but the message was quite clear. Chair scraping the floor, Geralt got up and threw some coin down on the table.

"Where are they?" Geralt demanded, Priscilla blinking owlishly at him.

"A-a house in Hierarch Square," Priscilla pointed towards the door, "down the street from Djikstra's bath house, you can't miss it."

"That house belong to Valdo Marx?" Geralt asked.

"Yeah," Priscilla's eyes darkened, "Are you gonna kill him?"

Geralt scrunched his nose as if he smelled something particularly bad. He never met the man in person, but he wanted to see Jaskier again. It depended on if this Marx would allow Jaskier to see him. Taking out his xenevox, he twisted the gold cap and soon he could hear Yennefer on the other side.

"Geralt?" Yennefer asked, a kilt in her lovely voice that told Geralt she'd just woken up from a nap, "Is everything alright?"

"Do you remember that Valdo Marx Jaskier mentioned a while back?" Geralt shared a glance with Priscilla, who wisely kept her mouth shut as she dragged her nail across the tabletop. The young bard had finally finished his set, having gone to collect his payment from the innkeeper. 

"Vaguely- did meet him in court once," Yennefer drawled, "absolutely dreadful singing voice. Why?"

"Jaskier hasn't been performing for a while now apparently," Geralt explained, "According to Priscilla, Marx has been keeping quite the leash on him."

A pause on the other end.

"But Jaskier hates Marx- he wanted the djinn to kill the man, for God's sake!'

"Right?!" Priscilla blurted, "And I know something is up- our troupe went to collect him from Marx's manor the other night and Marx refused to let us in!"

Yennefer hummed, her voice tinny and vibrating. Geralt raised an eyebrow at Priscilla, who simply shrugged, playing idly with the ends of her hair.

"Alright," Yennefer finally said, "I have one of his stupid hats here, if I can, I'll find a spell to reveal the cause."

Priscilla chuckled, and Geralt raised an eyebrow as he asked, "He never wears hats unless in Cintran court."

"A gift from Ciri for his birthday," Yennefer said and Geralt could hear the smile on her face.

"Is that fondness I hear?" Geralt teased.

"Oh just go to Marx's house!" Yenner shot back, "I'll call you from the xenevox if I find anything."


	2. Chapter 2

Following Priscilla's instructions, Geralt found himself running through Hierarch Square, not paying any mind as he knocked people out of his way, ignoring Redanian guards thinly veiled threats as he went. Soon he found himself standing outside Valdo Marx's house, near the bridge of town by the Temple Isles. Priscilla was huffing and puffing as she caught up, her cheeks flushed and hair sticking to her face and neck with sweat.

"Whew!" she gasped between breaths, "Forgot.... you ran.... so fast-"

Geralt rolled his eyes, giving her the moment to catch her breath, "I didn't tell you to follow me."

"Well, you didn't say not to follow you!" Priscilla chirped proudly, hands on her hips as she sauntered up to the door; her gaze was harsh as she glared at the worn wood, raising a fist.

"Priscilla-" Geralt started, only to be cut off by obnoxious knocking.

"Marx!" Priscilla yelled, banging so angrily that Geralt thought she might break her hand, "Valdo Marx, you whoreson, you better be home and you better let Jaskier out or I-"

"Won't do anything rash," Geralt hissed at her, pulling her around the side of the house, "Are all you bards idiots?!"

Priscilla practically growled, her face so un-Priscilla that for a moment, Geralt thought he would need to use his silver sword. She was always calm and level-headed, but now? Now Geralt truly saw what fury looked like and it wasn't a woman scorned nor a man cheated. Scrunching up her nose, Priscilla tugged a the ends of her hair, muttering cursed under her breath.

"It's just-" Priscilla stuttered, "-It's just that everyone in the theatre business knows Jaskier. He's a bit of an idiot, true, but even he follows our one unspoken rule."

"And that is?" Geralt crossed his arms, disdain evident on his face.

"It's kind of dumb, but basically, don't plagiarize from other bards," Priscilla said, "If you sing another Bard's song, you always preface it with something like 'and now a tune from so-and-so,' you know?"

Geralt shrugged, eyeing the door with disdain. Wracking his brain, Geralt could recall a time or two when Jaskier explained the going-ons of the bardic life. Not that he payed too much attention, but even Geralt knew it sucked to have your work stolen from you. It was almost like a Witcher stealing a contract, in a way. You just didn't do it. 

"And Valdo Marx stole Jaskier's songs?" Geralt asked.

"Yeah- the Toss A Coin song Jaskier wrote?" Priscilla wrung her hands, "The Countess de Stael basically kicked Jaskier out of court after Marx used the tune to make his own song- not for the first time too."

"And this happened while they were together?"

"Yeah- practically kept Jaskier under lock and key too," Priscilla bristled, "After Jaskier's rise to fame, no doubt Marx tried something on him again to keep up."

Geralt grumbled, pushing a hand through his hair. 

"I have Yennefer doing some tracking spell," Geralt explained, "let's hope she finds something soon."


End file.
